


how she takes her tea

by deepnest



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Hornet Has a Good Time For Once, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepnest/pseuds/deepnest
Summary: Hornet woke in one soft and uncomplicated moment, knowing where she was, the name of this place washed in thin gray light. Home in the early morning.
Relationships: Hornet/Lace (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 75





	how she takes her tea

Hornet woke in one soft and uncomplicated moment, knowing where she was, the name of this place washed in thin gray light. Home in the early morning.

She had slept most of the night through. Perhaps one awakening, dream-shrouded moment of cold sweat and soothing, nothing that had lasted long. It had been slight enough that her head and heart were clear now. She pulled an arm free of the blankets and draped it over the still form beside her.

"Good morning," Lace murmured drowsily. She shifted, pressing her back to Hornet's chest and tipping her head up to nudge Hornet's face.

"Good morning," Hornet answered, half into her pillow, entirely with wonder, "My love." 

Lace rolled over and laid her palm over Hornet's cheek. "Yes. Only yours."

Hornet closed her eyes again. She took Lace's hand, twined their fingers together and pulled it from her face, only to press it to her chest, instead. She lay there, silent, absent any particular desire to move from this spot. 

Lace took her other hand and ran it along the inner curve of the horn pressed into the pillow. Hornet purred, an instinct which came to her unbidden, but which she now allowed herself to indulge in freely. Lace took her hand back, this time, so she could reach over Hornet's side and set her palm between Hornet's shoulders, embracing her and the low vibrations that nearly lulled them both back to sleep. 

Lace's mouth lazily brushed over her fangs. Hornet pulled them back so that Lace could kiss her properly, and then spoke, the first few words trilled before she silenced her purring, "I suppose it's time for breakfast, isn't it?"

Lace opened one eye, and huffed, "If it must be."

"Don't pout so," Hornet whispered. She sat up, let the sheets fall into her lap. "I'll be back in a moment."

"No, you won't."

"No?" Hornet answered mildly, as she swung her feet onto the floor. 

"No," Lace said. "Because I am going to make breakfast this morning."

Lace caught Hornet's wrist before she could stand, and drew her hand back to herself to kiss her palm. 

Hornet considered this, and then tilted her wrist up, allowing Lace a better angle. Hornet said, "I would like eggs. I can make these myself, if you would prefer not to."

Lace let go of Hornet's hand and sniffed. "Oh! I simply don't know where I'll find the means to comply with such an outrageous demand, Princess."

"In the icebox."

"Then perhaps I'll start my search there." Lace rolled out of bed, spun back around, and smoothed the folds of her nightdress around her waist, all with the fluidity of one motion. "Now, don't hurry for my sake. There's nowhere we have to be today, after all."

"As you wish."

"As it should be!"

Lace flounced from the room, and Hornet did not move to follow. She did watch her, through the living room until she disappeared into the kitchen, and then Hornet eyed that patch of carpet on the threshold, where Lace had stood last. 

Hornet stood, anyway, kicked off the shorts she'd taken to wearing as pajamas and swirled her cloak down from its hook nearby onto her shoulders.

She considered her needle, hanging on a second hook. She tapped the sheathed blade where it narrowed to the tip with a single claw. But it was not the right tool for today. For now.

She didn't need it. Wouldn't. Shouldn't. 

She turned her back on it, bowed her head, a moment of gratitude for what had once been her only companion. Then she stepped into the living room, adjusting her cloak as she went. 

The smell of frying lillifly eggs was already wafting into the bedroom, buttery and spiced with pepper. Hornet had not hurried for Lace's sake. She was simply hungry. 

She nearly ran into Lace, stepping out of the kitchen as Hornet tried to enter it. Lace was carrying a tray, well-spread - a little pot of tea, a plate of toast and jar of jam, two plates of eggs. 

Hornet observed automatically, "We should not eat in bed."

Lace offered, "It's laundry day, anyhow."

"And I have no desire to spend it dealing with jam stains." Hornet plucked the tray from Lace's hands, and the resulting indignant squeak drew her chelicerae up in a grin. She pressed on into the kitchen, "Join me at the table, won't you?"

"Very well. But only because you're handsome when you smile."

Hornet paused, squaring her shoulders, and behind her, Lace giggled. Hornet began to arrange the food on the table without further comment, but when Lace joined her, she was still smiling, the softest smile that fangs could manage. 

Lace poured the tea, and administered the appropriate beats of milk for each of them, knowing Hornet's preference as well as she knew her own. No honey, nor sugar. She set Hornet's cup down in front of her, and dragged her chair around from the other side of the table to sit at Hornet's side. 

When Hornet inclined her head curiously, Lace merely answered, "You said to join you," and took a sip of her own tea.

"So I did." Hornet slipped an arm around Lace's waist, inviting her to lean as much as she could while they were eating. Lace accepted, curling her legs onto her chair, and wrapping arm around Hornet in turn, though more for contact than balance. The cool, cottony fabric of her nightgown pressed to Hornet's cloak, fabric stirring over chitin.

Lace cut into one of her eggs with the side of her spoon, and to let yolk gather in it. She lifted the spoon to Hornet's mouth. "Come now. I want to know what you think."

"What could I tell _you_ but 'delicious'?" But before Lace could present any of the ready alternatives, Hornet took what she'd been offered, and then nodded solemnly. "Indeed so. Thank you." 

Lace stretched up, looped her hands behind Hornet's neck, and kissed her again. "And how about that?" 

"Ah. Better still, but…" She took a spoonful of her own eggs, and popped it into Lace's mouth. "We require sustenance, and sadly we won't find any nutrients that way." 

Lace laughed, no longer the flawless sound it had once been, but twice as lovely by Hornet's estimate.

Once they had finished eating, it was, indeed, laundry day. Lace at last changed into something still clean, and they commenced in earnest. They gathered those garments and sheets which they needed to wash, and washed them. Next they loaded the sopping cloth back into the basket. Lace carried it down to the sunny courtyard, and Hornet set up the drying poles and ran a thread between them, and the two of them strung everything up.

As soon as this was done, Lace folded neatly into the clover and sprawled out. The courtyard was nearly empty today. Some children had claimed a corner for a game, and there was a neighbor, tending a particular patch of flowers. And now Lace, settled as luxuriously as she would have on the lounge inside, waiting for Hornet.

And Hornet understood that she had been wrong in her earlier assessment - she could make use of her favorite tool, after all. 

_Now,_ Hornet thought, and turned away considerately, although she could not see their windows from this side. _While we have a moment. Now..._

"If I bring my needle to play, will you sing with me?"

"Hm!" Lace propped herself up on her elbow. She took another look around, although she was doubtless as acutely aware of their surroundings as Hornet was, and nodded grandly. "If you'd like to hear me sing, then I will." 

Hornet stretched, and announced, "I'll return shortly." 

"Oh, do. I'll miss you terribly." Lace's tone was dry, but she reached up, wrapped Hornet's hand in hers and squeezed it. Once and then again when Hornet replied by brushing a thumb along the joints in Lace's flesh.

Hornet only had to run back inside and retrieve it. She might have brought it earlier, if she'd thought to do so, but there was no great loss. She had no further obligations today beyond that which fluttered on its line. She could spare a few moments. 

She could. It was her choice, now, and it would not hurt anything, and - one way or another, she had made the decision to do so. It was her choice.

"There you are." Lace observed the once-weapon in Hornet's hands, and smiled. "Such a fine thing."

Hornet nodded. She sat down, crossed her legs, and laid her needle over them. She had been wrong earlier, but less than she'd thought. She hadn't needed it, nor would she. She wanted it, instead.

"We have mostly waiting to do now. Better to have music, too." She slid the sheath off and set it down beside her. 

"You _are_ such a sentimental creature," Lace replied fondly. Her eyes were as bright as the light off the metal, but unusually soft when she looked at Hornet, at the contentment in Hornet's own eyes as she worked.

From her spool, Hornet unwound strands of silk and drew them from the needle's base to the tip, snipping the final lengths with her claws to fasten. She plucked at them, testing the sound, and Lace hummed, matching the pitch with her voice and nodding approvingly. 

Hornet leaned the needle against her scarred shoulder, resting the tip against the ground. Lace knew the song from the first measure, and joined in with her voice. They performed quietly, to keep the music as near to them as they could, while the sun warmed the flowers and their laundry and the two of them. 


End file.
